"St. Cadouin! Do you take me for an ingrate? If you have any service to ask of me, speak freely without fear of a refusal."
"When I ran across you a few minutes ago, it occurred to me you were the man I needed—"
"Is it some enemy you wish to rid yourself of? All you have to do is to place me before him."
Josephin shook his head negatively, and pointed with his finger at his own long sword, that lay across the table before him. It would have been quite enough for such a contingency.
"You are yourself able to rid yourself of an enemy," replied the Mauvais-Garçon. "I know it. What, then, is the job?"
The Franc-Taupin proceeded with a tremulous voice while a tear rolled down from his eye:
"Pichrocholle, I had a sister—"
"How your voice trembles! You could not look any sadder. Pichrocholle, the pots are empty, and no money to fill them with!" said Grippe-Minaud.
"'Sdeath, my sister!" cried the Franc-Taupin in despair. "There is a void in my heart that nothing can fill!" and he hid his face in his hands.
"A void is useful when it is made in the purse of a bourgeois," commented Grippe-Minaud, while his companion remarked: